Sly 4: The Atlantis Engine
by m3thod-mak3r
Summary: You just can’t keep a good thief down…After the events on Kaine Island, Sly works with his betrothed, Carmelita Fox, as a police officer. However, when a jewel thief begins collecting relics from Atlantis, Sly must take up his cane again to stop him...
1. Prologue

Title: Prologue

Author's Note

cough Uh yeah. So a little history. I know this kind of stuff rivets you people. This is my FIRST fanfiction, and probably my longest. I wrote it oh….2 or 3 years ago, so the writing is more crap than my usual stuff. If this hasn't chased you off yet, you are a die-hard Sly Cooper fan, or you seriously overestimate me. In some places, I've tried to smooth out the rough patches, but ultimately, this just sucks. So why post? Well my feathered friends, if this story brings a little grin to someone out there, I will feel less dirty about posting it. That's why – and this is important now – please comment one way or another if you like the first few chapters! If this story is too awful to read, I shall not dirty the interwebs with it. If you like it, I'll continue to hack through my own writing and try as best as I can to improve it. Fair?

Maybe not. Well, sit back, squint at the glaring computer screen of yours and be ready for M3thod-mak3r at her typical worst. Cheers!

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Time: Six months the attempted Kaine Island Heist

Bentley sat motionless in his wheelchair, muscles tense and aching from being held at attention for so many hours. However, discomfort was a somewhat less threatening adversary than the hundred plus policemen loitering in the valley below. Though several hundred yards of dense foliage separated Bentley from his adversaries, even a slight movement could attract their inconvenient notice. Strictly speaking, Bentley had not been connected with any recent crimes, but the law had a long memory, and the French police forces would undoubtedly have some questions for him…if they caught him, that is. Particularly in this place. With deliberate slowness, Bentley placed his Binocucom over his eyes, wincing as it whirred quietly into focus. Penelope made the lenses glare proof, so they would not reflect sunlight and glint suspiciously, but she hadn't had time to adjust the interior mechanisms of the Binocucom. No matter; the noise was only loud to Bentley's nerves as he brought the cops into greater focus.

"You seeing what I am, Murray?" Bentley asked softly into a microphone. Half a world away, Murray was watching the police activity on his big screen TV. He would have preferred to be there with Bentley, but Murray's form did not lend itself to recon missions. Large purple mammals tended to stand out slightly more than turtles. "Sure am Bentley." 'The Murray' replied, weakly. The image on the screen brought tears to his smallish, hippo eyes.

There was Sly Cooper, wearing a rather sharp suit and chatting happily with a fellow policeman, perhaps his best man. Murray bitterly regretted he could not attend his childhood friend's wedding, even if he tended to make a fool of himself at fancy parties. Bentley heard Murray's snuffling through his headphones, and had to admit that he was feeling weepy himself. Today, Sly Cooper, the infamous master thief turned cop, was to wed the elegant Carmelita Montoya Fox. Since Sly had no family of his own (save Bentley and Murray, who were currently on the lamb) most of those in attendance were members of law enforcement whom Sly and Carmelita befriended during their time on the force.

Bentley had privately hoped that Sly and Carmelita would have waited a little while longer to be married. Their wedding gift was nowhere near finished, despite all the hours Bentley and Penelope had spent constructing it. Plus, Bentley would have liked to have arranged a way to attend the wedding properly, but that would involve organizing something with Carmelita, though he had the sneaking suspicion that she would not want thieves at her wedding. Time might have slacked her temper a little, but stringent sense of right and wrong would not permit thieves to traipse about in her presence, unscathed…

So Bentley and Murray were reduced to spying; watching from afar as their lifelong friend walked down the aisle. No expense was spared for the happy couple. From his perch, Bentley admired the tasty looking victuals laid out on delicate china, the luminous flower arrangements, the frequented wet bar and even an ice sculpture of a pair of swans taking flight, a feature with Sly almost certainly found tacky. A string quartet provided a light background tune, which Bentley could only hear when the musicians reached the height of a crescendo. Finally, the decorated guests ordered themselves into seats and watched the alter with rapt attention. Then there was Sly, marching down the aisle with an elated smile on his face, an expression more readily associated with a particularly sassy heist than the prospects of wedlock. Carmelita was there too, naturally, her hair teased into formal elegance, her dress luminescent and immaculate white. She probably hated the restrictive nature of the garment, but happiness found her anyway as a priest recited vows over the couple-to-be.

For some reason, Bentley was nervous and jumpy, as though something would go wrong. Was this whole marriage just another trick of Sly's? Or perhaps was it some elaborate set up on Carmelita's part? In every heist, there was a moment where the job was either made or broken; the snatch of the jewel, the faith in a trap's failure. Bentley thought that these marital vows placed Sly and Carmelita in unprecedented states of vulnerability, and if the absolute commitment was not mutual, the destruction of the fooled party would be complete.

But, when Bentley took another look at the bride and groom, he saw that his fears were baseless. Bentley had known Sly for a long time, but he didn't think he had ever seen Sly so happy or so...in love. Bentley knew Sly as a suave, classy, mischievous and an occasional smart alec, but never a sap. Adoration was not usual expressive faire for Sly, but none the less he graced Carmelita with just that look as he stood beside her. To see Carmelita return the gaze with equal magnitude was also incredible. Bentley had never known Sly or Carmelita to be the romantic types, but he didn't think that he had ever seen two people so in love. Well, except for himself and Penelope.

Murray and Bentley watched, breathless. It appeared as though the priest had completed the ceremony, or was very near to it. "What's going on?" whispered Murray into his mike, as he reached for another tissue. "I don't..." began Bentley. "You may now kiss the bride." said the priest, quite loudly, almost, it seemed, for Bentley's benefit.

And Sly did.

In the valley, France's finest cheered, Bentley gasped, and half a world away, Murray began bawling like a small child.


	2. The Captain and the Constable

Title: The Captain and the Constable

Time: Two years later...

In a corner office of French police HQ, Captain Carmelita Montoya Cooper brooded over an already dog eared case file. She sat perched on the corner of her desk, too concentrated on the file at hand to register the pangs of discomfort shooting up her erect spine and tense legs. Similar case files, in various degrees of wear, stood stacked in piles on the floor around her, numerous but meticulously organized. Carmelita and her husband/partner recently engaged a particularly difficult case; probably the most difficult they ever tackled as cops, though Carmelita was loath to admit this. Actually, by ordinary standards, Sly and Carmelita solved many difficult cases together, though their combined skills made these no challenge at all. Carmelita, already an accomplished and respected officer before she teamed up with Constable Cooper, held the highest arrest record for her precinct, and was often contracted by Interpol to assist advise on difficult cases. Sly himself proved a valuable asset, because many criminals imitated styles which were recorded in the Thievius Raccoonus. His criminal mind could understand how even the most accomplished heists were pulled off. It rarely took the Coopers more than a week to make an arrest.

Frustrated, Carmelita tried to intimate the case with an icy glare. _Ordinary thieves…so much less creative than Sly ever was. But this new guy, he's tough. And 'Hacker A'._ Carmelita kept a whole file cabinet full of cases related to a subject dubbed 'Hacker A', an infamously skilled money launder. Though she had little evidence to support her theory, Carmelita suspected 'Hacker A' was in fact Sly's former friend Bentley. He was probably using the stolen funds to finance some large construction project on Kaine Island, formerly the location of the Cooper Vault. Unfailingly and, from Carmelita's case, annoyingly clever, Bentley never left a shred of digital evidence which might link him to the thefts. With his firsthand experience with Bentley's hacking styles, Sly could probably solve the case easily, but Carmelita feared that any mention of Sly's former friends might end his memory lapse. 'Former friends'. Carmelita would never admit it, but she felt a little pang of guilt whenever she though about Bentley or Murray. Sly cared so much for them, and the three were truly like brothers in the past, but since Carmelita took advantage of Cooper's amnesia, he might never see them again. But you can't miss what you've forgotten, right?

But Bentley, alias 'Hacker A', was not Carmelita's chief concern right now. Recently, a new hacker had emerged. He had been dubbed, 'Hacker B' by the rather dull nomenclature department at Interpol. Initially, crimes committed by Hacker B were credited to Hacker A, but Carmelita, charged with solving the Hacker B case by Interpol, soon realized that the styles were completely different. Bentley was known to have a swift, knifelike approach to hacking; getting the information he needed and leaving quickly. He was also famous for going right to the computer he wished to hack, rather than accessing it remotely. Hacker B on the other hand, took the information he needed and then took the coding equivalent of a sledgehammer to the defeated computer. And Hacker B did all of that remotely.

Since Hacker B destroyed all the data on a computer after he got his info, it was difficult to tell what he was after in the first place. To make matters even worse, it was impossible to tell how many computers Hacker B had penetrated, since few people credited their apocalyptic system meltdowns to a hacker. A porn-borne virus seemed much more likely to inflict that sort of damage. However, two high-profile information hacks were officially credited to Hacker B. The first case was that of Dr. Von Strauss, a well known archeologist. Most of his studies centered on Greek and Roman cultures, and half the history textbooks on the market gave credit to Mr. Strauss for providing them with information on those subjects. The second hacked computer belonged to a woman named Fawcett ZinTzu, who was an expert in the occult field. Her focus of study was the 'science' behind channeling spirits or elemental forces. When her computer was hacked, Fawcett was studying 'spirit lines' in Ireland.

Carmelita had done background checks on both Dr. Von Strauss and Miss. ZinTzu, but she could find no connection between them. They had never worked together, been employed by the same person or held a common employee. As far as Carmelita could see, they had never even been the same country. It didn't help that neither of them had ever published an article on the internet, nor so much as posted on a forum. They used their computers for business purposes only, and neither of them seemed eager to divulge what they had stored there before the hack. Dr. Von Strauss seemed of the opinion that a rival archeological group had stolen his files, which was why he reported the wipe in the first place. Miss. ZinTzu was just plain paranoid as far as Carmelita could tell.

In frustration, Carmelita flung the case file to the floor. She didn't want to sit around trying to decipher clues from snippets of code. She wanted some action! She wanted to catch the S.O.B who was responsible for this. Especially if it meant a stake out or a shoot out.

From an adjoining office, Sly heard the case file hit the floor. He understood her frustration and wished he could be of more help and ease her irritation. Bentley could probably located Hacker B in hours, his quick fingers cornering the rival in cybernetic web, but then again, that was his specialty. That digital realm held no mysteries for the turtle, and Sly wished desperately for his dear friend's expertise. However, he wasn't supposed to remember Bentley, or Murray, or anyone or anything from his past. Faking amnesia for two-and-a-half years had not been easy or ideal, but Sly realized it was the only way to finally get close to Carmelita. After all, it's hard to tell a girl that you love her when she's got a shock pistol at your temple. Sly's sacrifice earned him the girl of his dreams, but little he missed his old life as well, sometimes to the point of envy toward the criminals he pursued. To his surprise however, Sly soon realized that his thieving skills gave him quite an edge at his new career. Instead of figuring out how he was supposed to break into a building, now he had to figure out how someone else had accomplished the task. Thieving in reverse.

Sly not only missed the superficial aspects of his old life, but the characters that inhabited his supposedly forgotten past. Bentley and Murray were always helped him, without fail or hesitation, from his earliest years in the orphanage. Now, he could not return the favor, though he was certain the pair monitored his life meticulously, albeit from the shadows. He longed to contact them again, to sit around and laugh about heists gone wrong, the innumerable treasures they won and lost, the whole history of their jolly band. Sly missed this comradely more than the actual thefts themselves, as hard as that was to achieve.

However, Sly loved Carmelita too much to compromise their relationship by going back to his thieving ways. _If only I could help her though! _He thought. 'Sly Cooper: Master Thief' would have no trouble finding out who Hacker B was, but 'Constable Cooper' had to obey the law. Meanwhile, poor Carmelita was pulling her lovely locks out in frustration.

Sly got up from his desk and walked over to Carmelita's office. "Trouble with the Hacker B case again?" Sly asked her. "We have made zero progress on catching this criminal! His methods have baffled our brightest experts and I can find no connections between these victims, if they are indeed connected at all." Carmelita indicated the mountains of files surrounding her desk "This is ridiculous. We are experts at catching criminals, not deciphering miles of code!" Sly sat next to her and put and arm around Carmelita's shoulders. He felt her tense muscles relax at his touch. He was sure her blood pressure was constantly above the healthy rate, except perhaps, when he was around to diffuse her stress. "You know..." Sly began, "maybe we can contract a civilian to figure out the coding bit. They could tell us what information Hacker B was after, or at least if the cases are related." Carmelita snorted, "You know as well as I do that there is no one in France clever enough to understand this level of hacking. Perhaps not even in the whole world." "So long as you're sure" said Sly mildly. Carmelita didn't respond, but Sly knew she was thinking about how she might be able to contact the elusive Hacker A.


	3. Hacker A’s Abode

Title: Hacker A's Abode

It was Penelope who answered the door when Carmelita came to call. The foxy detective's presence on the stoop was extraordinary and unexpected, particularly because the stoop was located on Tutuila, a small island in the South Pacific under the jurisdiction of the United States. Bentley and Penelope hoped the island's gentle tropical tempo would settle their nerves after years of thieving. The pair also conducted various hacking operations from the comfort of their home computers, accumulating enough wealth to live well and fund the construction of Sly's expansive wedding gift. All and all, the airy bungalow, draped in fragrant vines and shrouded by bobbing palm trees, provided the couple, particularly Penelope, with a peaceful backdrop for low-key criminal activities.

Upon seeing Mrs. Cooper's lithe form glowering on her welcome mat, Penelope knew her home was about to become everything but peaceful, palm trees or no. "Ah…Carmelita. It's been a while." Penelope said coldly, narrowing her eyes behind her fiercely glinting spectacles. Carmelita tightened her jaw and returned Penelope's frigid stare before responding in a curt, clipped tone, "Relax civilian. I'm not here to arrest you or your husband. Is Bentley in?" "No he's…" Penelope began quickly, making a move for the doorknob so she could slam the door in Carmelita's face at first convenience when Bentley's voice cut across her own from the depths of the house, "Darling, where do we keep the Scotch tape?" he asked innocently. Penelope sighed heavily. "Carmelita Montoya Cooper is here to speak with you." She called back loudly as she shuffled aside to let Carmelita into her home. As the detective walked past, Penelope added in a terse whisper, "Don't you dare hurt him Carmelita." "Lucky for you that isn't my errand today." Carmelita said casually, though her mouth formed a wicked little grin as she said this.

Bentley twitched nervously in his wheelchair, his stubby fingers fluttering on the slick armrest-mounted controls. Doubtlessly, he breeched more than one law since his last audience with Carmelita, but which job betrayed him? The Chicago hack job? The Swiss one? Or one of his countless other cyber conquests? Did Carmelita have enough damning evidence to make an arrest, or was she simply here for questioning. Turtles can't sweat, but if Bentley had the ability, he would be doused in the salty slick as Carmelita entered his kitchen and waved Penelope away. Mrs. Cooper looked volatile and eager for a fight as she stomped into the room.

"I'm going to make this quick Bentley, so listen very, very carefully. Sly and I have run across a hacker problem that we can't seem to solve. You can help us." began Carmelita. Bentley gulped audibly. "I don't know what you are talking about..." he stammered. "Of course you don't, because I haven't told you yet. Now, shut up and pay attention." snapped Carmelita. Clearing her throat, she continued her explanation, "Recently two high profile researchers have come forward and claimed that a hacker caused their computers to malfunction. Many more of these cases could exist, but we suspect the victims credit their troubles to run-of-the-mill technical problem. We don't know who this hacker is or what he is planning. Personally, I think it's something big. The bottom line is that he _is_ good and Sly and I need to know where he is, who he is and what he is up too. Sly suspects that data on the hacked computers could tell us what information the hacker was after and if the two cases were, in fact, connected. Can you get us that data, civilian?"

"Certainly...if I can look at the original hardrives of the hacked computers..." Bentley said slowly, rolling away from the overbearing detective. "Good." Carmelita spat. "I will have them sent to you in two weeks time. Remember, no tricks civilian. I know where you live." and with that, Carmelita stormed from the house, whisking the air behind her with an agitated tail. As soon as she left, Penelope rushed to Bentley's side, clutching his trembling hands. "Oh my goodness Bentley! What happened? Why didn't she arrest you?" Bentley shook his head, "You'll never believe it Penelope. I was just contracted to help catch a hacker for Interpol. I guess Sly and Carmelita couldn't get any leads on his identity." Penelope digested this. "I'd bet anything that Sly reminded her to get your help. He must miss you pretty badly." Bentley was silent for a while, "You think?" Penelope kissed Bentley's forehead, "Sure."

The hard drives arrived on schedule, along with a terse note from Carmelita, which explained that Bentley was to call her cellphone with the results of his analysis. Bentley began to work on the hard drives right away, but he soon discovered that they were gutted, devoid the digital ghosts left by basic deleting. _Tabula Rosa_. Irreversible cyber amnesia. After desperate hours at a keyboard, Bentley resigned to failure and tentatively called Carmelita. "All I can be sure of.." Bentley told her, trying to keep a nervous waver from his voice, " is that both hacks were committed by the same person." "Are you certain?" hissed Carmelita "Very" replied Bentley. Without further question or comment, Carmelita hung up, leaving Bentley breathing heavily onto a dead line.

When Carmelita returned from Tutuila, Sly greeted her with enthusiasm. "Welcome back." he said cheerily as he swept Carmelita into a tight embrace. He always missed her when she went on travel. Carmelita shared Sly's moment of tenderness, then abruptly turned away and began to brief him on her findings. "Sly, I got the diagnosis from Be...the private contractor." reported Carmelita. "So what's the word on the hard drives?" asked Sly, his voice full of curiosity. "No much. Every speck of data on the hard drives was gone. There was no way to find out what information was on the computers before the wipe." replied Carmelita grimly. "Sounds like a pretty solid hacking job." mused Sly. "No kidding." said Carmelita as she paced the length of the room. "And trust me, they guy I sent the hard drives to is good. The best, even. I don't know why he couldn't figure it out." _Bentley would die of shock if he heard Carmelita pouring such lavish compliments on him._ Thought Sly _Where's a tape recorder when you need one?_

"In any case.." Carmelita said "I suggest we go to Greece and Ireland to interview the computer's owners. Perhaps a face to face chat might persuade them to give us more information." "Sounds like fun." said Sly with enthusiasm. Field work reminded him of his old days as a thief; the exotic locales, the shady characters, the clever escapes. Compared to plowing through case files, field work seemed like a dream come true. Carmelita gave her husband a conspiratorial grin. "It would be in their best interest to assist us without persuasion, I think. I am really getting sick of this 'Hacker B'. They might be the ones to suffer for it." Sly laughed, and kissed Carmelita. "When we catch up to him, he won't even know what hit him." Slipping away from Sly, Carmelita looked at the floor, suddenly guilty looking. "Sly? Do you remember anything from before the accident?" Sly laughed again, "Sorry. Still nothing. Am I missing something really important? More time with you perhaps?" Carmelita didn't say anything for awhile. "Nothing like that." she said swiftly. "We should probably make some reservations and pack. There's a criminal to be put to justice." she added. "There certainly is." said Sly, with a little half smile.


	4. Sound, Intellectual Advice

Murray was relaxing in his hot tub when the phone rang

Murray was relaxing in his hot tub when the phone rang. It was his intention to pick it up on the first ring, but as he exited the hot tub, Murray slipped and preformed an unintentional 'thunder flop'. By the time he struggled to his feet, his phone was ringing for the third and second to last time.

Pouncing on the receiver (as best a hippo could), Murray answered the phone, still panting heavily. "He...Hello?" he bellowed. "Uh...Hi Murray...this is Bentley." said a voice on the other side of the phone. "Oh! Hey there little buddy. How's it going?" asked Murray with much enthusiasm. "It's been great. Yourself?" said Bentley. "Great!" Said Murray. "I've won tons of races. You should see this house I bought! It's got about a million rooms, and the garage is HUGE!! If I ever figure out how to us the digital camera you sent me for Christmas, I'll send you some pictures."

"Sounds...interesting...Murray." there was a long pause in the conversation while Murray gathered his thoughts. Bentley was beginning to think Murray had fallen asleep with the phone in his hand (which had happened before), when Murray asked, "Bentley?" "Yeah?" replied the startled turtle. "I miss Sly." said Murray sadly. "Me...me too..."said Bentley, surprised be the sudden leap in logic. Raccoons and garages have very little in common.

"I mean, it's cool he has a girl and all, but him be'n a cop and me be'n a wanted criminal sorta makes it hard to hang out." said Murray mournfully. "I know. But we can't blow Sly's cover! If Carmelita figures out that Sly doesn't really have amnesia, who knows what she'll do!" explained Bentley. "I know but..." began Murray, who was on the verge of tears.

"Murray! Listen to me!" interrupted Bentley, "I called to give you some information about Sly. He's going to Ireland and Greece soon to investigate the Hacker B case. I have a really bad feeling about this." "Did the hacker...out hack you?" asked Murray. "Inarticulate but correct. As impossible as it seems, I think Sly and Carmelita are up against someone with computer skills that exceed my own."

"Gasp!" gasped Murray. "Indeed. I don't know what Hacker B is after, but I don't think he's like most criminals. If he's just gathering information, he must be planning something big." said Bentley slowly. "I'm down with intuition and all, but don't you think you're worrying a little too much Bentley? Maybe this guy is just another thief, like you used to be. Just making a living, you know?" This struck Bentley, "I'm still a thief! Just...not the same thief. Besides Murray, this 'Hacker B' is stealing information, not money." "You always said information was valuable." pointed out Murray as he fiddled with his towel. "That's not the same...wait a minute Murray! You could be right! Rival archeologists or occult investigators might pay millions for the ground breaking data contained on Dr. Von Strauss' or Faucett's computers!" said Bentley, very excited. "What?" said Murray enthusiastically. "Listen Murray, I've got to go. This could be a really big break through for the Coopers!" said Bentley seriously. "Oh. Okay. You do that. Tell Carmelita to say 'hi' to Sly for me!" requested Murray. Bentley bit his lip. "Sure will. Bye."

After hanging up on Murray, Bentley dialed Carmelita's cell phone with fevered intensity. Judging by the background noise when Carmelita answered her phone, Bentley guessed she and Sly were in some airport or another, waiting to depart for the next leg of their journey. Nearly shouting over the noisy crowd swilling around the earpiece, it took Bentley three tries to identify himself in a recognizable manner. When Carmelita realized who she was talking to, she excused herself to the ladies room in a hurried, suspicious sort of way. _Doesn't even want to risk Sly overhearing my voice._ Bentley realized.

Moments later, Bentley heard the sound of a door closing, and the busy crowd noises were replaced by the gentler overtures of flushing toilet bowls and running sinks. Carmelita broke this relative calm seconds after she stowed away in a far cubicle. "Bentley! You idiot! Sly was sitting right next to me! What if hearing your voice jogged his memory?" "Do you think Sly will leave you if he gets his memory back?" Bentley wondered aloud. A deadly, crackling silence echoed for a long time on the other end of the receiver. Even though Carmelita and her stun gun were miles away, Bentley entertained the paranoid that she would appear behind him suddenly and snap his neck for his ill conceived rhetorical question." "Why did you call this number? This had better be good civilian, or I will punish you." Carmelita spat.

"I-I'm sorry Ma'm. It's just...I thought of an angle on the Hacker B case that you might not have looked at." stammered Bentley. "Go on, turtle." hissed Carmelita. "Well.." began Bentley, "archeological societies are in huge competition with each other to make breakthrough discoveries. If they deliver these kinds of finds, they continue to receive government funding and private funding, they get all the best material for publishing and so on. If Dr. Von Strauss made an important discovery, it is logical that a rival group might attempt to steal his work. As for LinTzu, the market might be smaller, but I'm sure her work with the occult could fetch a fair price in some circles."

Carmelita nearly blew a blood vessel. "You think I am some rookie cop, right out to the academy? Of course Sly and I will be investigating the other archeological and occult groups in Greece and Ireland, as well as international groups with similar focuses to the victims! We are not fools!" shouted Carmelita. "Sorry! Sorry!" cried Bentley, "I didn't realize you were so familiar with the intellectual community."

"And why shouldn't I be!?" roared Carmelita. Bentley held his phone as far away from his bald cranium as possible, but the detective's voice still hit the delicate bones in his ears like a mudslide. Behind Carmelita's raving, Bentley heard a little girl crying; apparently a toddler in an adjoining stall found Carmelita's fiery tempter terrifying. _At least she won't be coming after you with a shock pistol._ Thought Bentley miserably. Nearly hoarse with rage, Carmelita ended her shouting with a raspy, "We'll be in touch Bentley. Take that as a threat." Then the line went dead, leaving Bentley in blissful island silence.

Kicking open the stall door, Carmelita stormed out of the ladies room, attracting the disapproving stares of several other bathroom goers as she passed. _Go to Hell_ she thought as she returned to the bench where Sly still sat, the serene sentry of the couple's carry on bags. He looked up at Carmelita sympathetically as she paced in front of him, trying to massage psychological distress with physical exertion. Ordinarily, she would go for a run or practice at the firing range, but in a public place she settled for walking, which settled her much more slowly than other activities. "What was that all about?" Sly asked innocently, though he had his ideas. "Some recruit at headquarters. Little bastard. They all think they are such hot stuff after graduation." Though told convincingly, Sly knew this was a lie; Carmelita could have taken such a call in front of him, after all. _Probably Bentley giving her a follow up call. Couldn't have been any good news from the looks of things._ "Well, you've certainly earned the right to give them Hell. Want to get a latte while we wait?" he asked, standing and gently taking his wife by the elbow. She shook him off. "This is no time for fancy, foo-foo drinks Sly Cooper! This Hacker B has us in knots, and we've nothing to…" Carmelita noticed that Sly was simply smiling lovingly at her, drinking her rage as though it were the cutest thing since kittens. Blushing under her fur, Carmelita closed her eyes and cradled her throbbing forehead, trying to bury her annoyance with Bentley and his inane comments. "Lattes. Sure. We have a lot of work ahead of us, certainly." "Atta girl. Keep the angry face on though. You're pretty when you're angry." Sly winked as he picked up is carry-on bag. Carmelita grabbed her own and followed, still irked but also thankful wear Sly's ring. After all, how many men thought spite was sexy?


	5. Dr Von Strauss

Carmelita and Sly arrived lat in Greece

Carmelita and Sly arrived lat in Greece. Delays due to security checks, weather and the late boarding of a teacher and her class turned the projected daytime flight into an unfortunate red-eye. By the time the plane touched down, Carmelita was raging, and she hadn't even tried to get her shock pistol back from security yet. Normally, Sly handled any exchanges with customer relations, but he felt a little ill from the trip. He never liked air travel, preferring to raid in 'the van', or more recently, a police car, when possible. Obviously, that wasn't an option for long journeys or urgent travel. While Carmelita made the mad at the 'help' counter cry, Sly watched the spectacle with hazy amusement. If his wife drew her baton, Sly would step in. Luckily for the unfortunate behind the desk, security officers rushed in and delivered Carmelita's pistol. She holstered it in ill tempter, giving them a withering glare before she stalked by to her husband. "'Help' desk? More like helpless! These people are pathetic!" she mutter as she approached Sly.

When he didn't deliver a patent pithy reply, Carmelita asked, "You okay Sly? You seem a tad quiet." Sly waved a hand vaguely. "Oh, you know planes and I don't get along so well." Carmelita's rage melted into concern, though she tried not to show it. "Well, if you are well enough to stand, we need to find a hotel." she said sarcastically. "Right you are." said Sly, standing up. "After you, milady." he said with a grin. Carmelita smiled in spite of herself. "Always the gentleman, Sly Cooper."

The next day, Sly and Carmelita set out to Delphi to meet with Dr. Von Strauss at his most recent dig near Delphi. The doctor was a monocled boar, who wore formal trousers and a jacket which were not well suited for an architectural dig. He had the prideful air of a tenured professor, and he treated his dig assistants as subordinates rather tan co-workers. Born and raised in North Germany, Dr. Von Strauss carried a thick accent through the three languages he acquired through study. The doctor sat under a clean white tent, enjoying a large lunch at a light foldable table which scarcely bore the weight of the meal. He shoveled forkful after forkful of rich food into his muzzle while casually overseeing his other workers. Carmelita took an immediate dislike to him.

Foregoing any formal introductions, Carmelita strode up to the archeologist and said, "Tell me Dr Von Strauss, what was on that computer which was so important?" When she was annoyed, she had even less patience then usual. And today, Carmelita was very, very annoyed. "Ah, maybe we should introduce ourselves." Sly said affably, flashing his badge. "We're the detectives who called you earlier? We're just here to help. An interview would really help us." interjected Sly. "I do not see 'ow knowing zee intimate details ohf my research could possibly further your investigation. Just get some filthy computer whiz to tzell you where the scoundrel is!" said Dr. Von Strauss moodily as he stuffed an éclair in his mouth. Carmelita slapped the plate of éclairs from the table and said, "Our 'computer whiz' was unable to locate the hacker. Since your finances are intact we can only assume the hacker was after information. Which information was it, Mr. Von Strauss?" Dr. Von Strauss stood up, outraged, "I don't halv to anzwer that! This is police brutality!" "I'll give you police brutality." growled Carmelita as her hand went to her shock pistol. Beneath his fur, Dr. Von Strauss paled to white. "Alright! Alright! I'll tell you what wash on zee computer!" exclaimed the good Doctor. "You..." he pointed at Sly, "you just keep your beast women on her leash!"

"'Beast women'!" yelled Carmelita, aiming her shock pistol at Von Strauss' forehead. Sly shook his head, "You really don't know how to speak to a lady, do you?" Sly touched Carmelita's shoulder, "Don't worry about him. Mr. Von Strauss obviously doesn't know who he's dealing with. "Obviously." said Carmelita, a disgusted look on her face. "Now you. Talk." she snapped at Dr. Von Strauss. The Doctor became fidgety and anxious. "Vell...zer was zee information about my most rezent dig...oh some dahta on ah site from a few years back..."

"But that information has all been published, or you've lectured on it. It's common knowledge in the archeological community." interrupted Sly. Doctor Von Strauss laughed weakly, "Zu it is...zu it is..." "What is the unpublished information then? What was on that computer that nobody else could know?" demanded Carmelita. "Zer is ohnley one thing...the 'Atlantis Project'." "Atlantis Project?" asked Sly and Carmelita in nearly perfect unison.

"Ja. It Wahz ah...foolish project of mine. I was young... I set out to find 'Atlantis'. I began to compile a list of likely locations for zee famed city, but my sponzor got word of zee project, und threatened to pull my funding if I continued. "Chasing dreams" she called it. So, zee Atlantis Project wend dead. Ay suppose it whaz for zee best. So much whisper the name 'Atlantis' around archeologists, and poof! That's it. No more reputation, no more money. Nothing." "So, you don't think a rival archeologist would be interested in the 'Atlantis Project'?" asked Sly. "Interested?" scoffed Von Strauss. "Pah. Zey would not so much look at it. Zey eould njot wish to ruin zeir precious careers." Both Sly and Carmelita looked shocked. "Then...who would be interested in this project of yours?"asked Sly. "Perhaps a madman. Perhaps a genius. Perhaps it's your job to figure it out." replied Dr. Von Strauss, sounding rather agitated.

"If you think of any possible names for this madman-slash-genius, you know who to call." said Sly as he excused himself. "Keep a good eye on beast woman zeir." Doctor Von Strauss said to Sly in parting. Carmelita restrained her urge to destroy the mortal form of the doctor with a few shock pistol bolts. She did so with great difficulty.


End file.
